We’ve had a lot of questions about The mighty Horseguard, about the brewery and about beavers. Whatever you need to know about beavers, just ask us. Ernie and I have decided to do some research for all of you out there.
Over the next few weeks we will be posting about the Horseguard Glacier, the Vanilla Pine, the wild horses and more.
To start things off, I will give you an article I wrote last fall on this blog:
I drove down Highway 11 toward the Horseguard Valley, wishing the traffic would go away. I was headed to the campground for a meeting with an environmental activist.
Wayne Anhail was asking anyone
interested in saving the wildlife of the beautiful horseguard valley to
meet with him. I didn’t know if anyone else was going to show, but I
figured I had better go and get some of the historic first meeting on
paper. It would be the least I could do to try to make everyone aware
of problems caused by tourism and industry. This place was one of the
few areas where one could still see wild horses on the loose, or
collect your own vanilla ice, or dip into a pen and ink pot.
But every year, more people came to see the beauty and experience some
time in the great outdoors. More campers, more garbage, more traffic on
the roads. There was talk of making Highway 11into a fourlane. Plans
were in the works for a huge new resort on the lake. Tankers were busy
hauling ink out of the pots as fast as they could make ballpoint pens
at the Rocky Pen Inc. And in the winter, work crews came in to take the
ice from around the bases of the vanilla pine. The ice is loaded into
dump trucks and hauled in to the vanilla extraction plant for
processing. It was easy to see how all of this activity could threaten
the delicate balance of the ecosystem.
My musings ended as I turned into the campground. The place was packed,
and every other sight had a boat trailer as well as an RV. There it
was, site 22. Wayne was sitting on his picnic bench, his tent set up
beside his old Honda Civic. Except for the beer in his hand, Wayne was
alone. Grimacing slightly, I hoped I wasn’t the only one coming.
Jumping out of my truck, I grabbed my notebook and went over to see
what Wayne had to say.
Wayne Anhail was infamous throughout activist circles for attempting to
save the Saskatchewan Seal and the Tiger Striped Hare of Southern
Alberta. Both species are now extinct and can only be seen in the form
of coats, slippers or bindings. His lack of success never detered him
from continuing on to help in the doomed attempt to save the Great
Hairy Whale from being hunted for its fur. No longer would car seat
covers be warm and furry, as the largest furbearing creature of the
oceans had been used up. Leaving Greenpeace for good, Wayne decided not
to campain for the freedom of the domesticated Naugha. Their skins can
be found in many products in Canada and the U.S., and Naugha hide is a
valuable commodity on the stock exchanges.
“Wayne, how’s it going,” I asked as he offered me a Blue Beaver Beer. “seen anyone else yet?”
“Nope, you’re the first. Listen, I don’t know if anyone else is going
to show up. You know what I think is going on, don’t you?”
“Well, I’m not really sure. Run it past me.”
“The horse populations are down, and I think it’s because there are too
many spectators around. Have you ever tried getting it on with a few
hundred tourists watching you? And these pine trees are suffering from
compressed roots due to too much foot traffic. Basically, the roots of
these trees are depressed. We have to get on these problems before it’s
too late. so what do you think?”
I took another swig of beer while I thought about it. Yep, Wayne’s
definitely lost it. These ideas were too far fetched, even for me. “I
don’t know. I’ll have to get back to you on that. Thanks for the
Beaver, Wayne. I’m going to go for a walk. Maybe some of the others
will arrive before I get back.” I headed for the river to check things
out. The trees on either side of the trail didn’t seem depressed at
all, but how would you know if they were pining away? Only time would
tell.